


Gifts on the Tree

by AislingSiobhan



Series: Prompts and Gifts [30]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 2016 Winteriron Holiday Exchange, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Christmas Presents, First Christmas, Friday is a troll, How the Grinch Stole Christmas but not this Christmas, Implied Mpreg, Kissing, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Omega Tony Stark, Steve is a bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AislingSiobhan/pseuds/AislingSiobhan
Summary: It’s “Christmas time, mistletoe and wine” – or, more accurately, hastily wrapped Santa presents and vodka spiked hot chocolate, but, still, nothing spells “baby’s first Christmas” like unnecessary overindulgence and schadenfreude.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beware_The_Tristero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beware_The_Tristero/gifts).



This is for Beware_The_Tristero (and the winteriron holiday exchange 2016). I hope you enjoy it. 

**“Gifts on the Tree”**

**Disclaimer:** The Avengers, Tony, Loki, etc belong to Marvel, Stan Lee, et co. I make no money from this and own nothing, don’t sue.  
**Summary:** [Bucky/Tony] It’s “Christmas time, mistletoe and wine” – or, more accurately, hastily wrapped Santa presents and vodka spiked hot chocolate, but, still, nothing spells “baby’s first Christmas” like unnecessary overindulgence and schadenfreude.  
**Warnings:** Slash. Bucky/Tony. Post-Avengers. AU Civil War. Alpha/Omega. Kissing. A/B/o universe. Gift fic. Steve is a bro. Mpreg (past). Happy Christmas. Bucky cannot wrap for shit. Friday is a troll. The Grinch did not steal this Christmas.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**A/N:** Cliff Richard – “Christmas time, _mistletoe and wine_ , Children singing Christian rhyme. With logs on the fire and gifts on the tree; A time for rejoicing in all that we see”  
**Prompt:** A combination of 4) Vodka-spiked hot-chocolate kisses. And 5) Alpha!Bucky/Omega!Tony: baby's first Christmas.

 _XXX_

**Words:** 2,180  
**Chapter 1**  
"Wrapping presents sucks," the voice whined. 

It was a man, and an Alpha, though you couldn't tell that from looking at him. All Tony could see when he looked towards where the voice had come from was a pile of un-wrapped presents, heaps of brightly coloured paper, and a tree. The tree, at least, they had finished decorating earlier that month. 

Bucky had put off wrapping the presents, wanting to wait until they could all sit down together and do it as a family (godfather Steve included). It was sweet, Tony admitted mentally - out loud he mocked and teased and insisted he'd build them a bot to do all of the wrapping for them. (He hadn't built the bot, but that's because his heat had hit unexpectedly eight days ago and he really hadn't felt like working until two days ago, but then Dr Doom had blown up half of Queens, so). It was Christmas though, the season of "it's the thought that counts", so because he'd thought of building present-wrapping-robots, Tony felt that he didn't really _have_ to wrap any presents. And anyway, Bucky wanted them to 'wrap as a family'... but when you were a family of three and a bit, someone was going to be left holding the baby! 

Conor was small, soft and warm, and Tony held him close to his chest, breathing in his powdery baby scent as Bucky started up with another round of complaints. 

"This was your idea, babe," Tony told him, unsympathetically. Conor cooed, as he wiggled his arms and legs with delight as Bucky's head popped out from around the edge of the tree. 

There was a scowl on his face that could rival Kristen Stewart's and pieces of sticky tape in his hair. "This is torture. I can say that, as I've actually been tortured," the Alpha ranted, as he plucked tape and scraps of paper off of his clothes and flicked them into the tree. Tony raised an eyebrow. "Seventy years of torture, and I'd pick another seventy over 18 years of wrapping these stupid presents!" Tony raised his other eyebrow. "Ok, maybe not seventy years. One? Half a year? Doll, please, please wrap these for me?" 

"I'm holding the baby. You know, our child? The child I carried inside of me for 43 long weeks, who refused to _come out_. The child I spent last Christmas labouring with... whose presents I wanted to wrap three weeks ago. Yeah, that baby. I'm holding him. You're wrapping presents, like the big, strong Alpha you are, you provider you. I'm very impressed." His poker face was on point, his voice was serious but a tad sardonic, and the look was completely ruined by the giggling baby blowing spit bubbles against his neck. 

"Shove off," Bucky hissed, scowling harder. 

"Language," Steve chastised. He made his way into the living room almost silently, hair a little wet from his shower still, and feet bare. "You're not finished yet?" He seemed more amused than surprised. 

"Don't worry, Capsicle, we wrapped yours already. No spoilers here." Steve rolled his eyes in Tony's direction. He held a mug in each hand, and he handed one to Bucky as he passed and the other he set down on the floor beside the couch. "Here," Tony repeated, handing his son over in exchange for the mug. He took a sip, and then turned his head to frown over at Steve. "It's not coffee?" 

"The disappointment is strong in this one." Bucky was hidden again behind the pile of gifts, but there was one socked foot sticking out around the edge of a toddler's tricycle (Tony was almost concerned it was going to get stuck in the wheel). 

"It's hot chocolate. Normally when it snowed and we had enough money left over at the end of the month, mam would add a little Irish cream or brandy to it." Steve rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, the other wrapped tight around his godson. "You didn't have any cream and the brandy was-uh-"

"Clint drank it all before you were finished with the cocoa, didn't he?" Tony sipped at his, savouring the bitter taste of dark chocolate, the slight hint of sweetness, and the tart burn of-- "vodka?" 

"Yeah, it was that or rum, and I thought this would taste better. Do you like it?"

"Merry Christmas eve, Steve." Tony said in response, gulping down the rest of the mug's contents with a wink. The engineer, (being the loving, kind omega that he was), made his way to his mate's side, disappearing into the pile of Christmas extravagance before snatching the roll of Star Wars wrapping paper out of his Alpha's hands. "That's not how you wrap a-- let me do it-- move over," he grumbled, breaking off every time Bucky tried to grab back the paper. Somehow a tightly coiled bow of ribbons had gotten stuck to Bucky's cheek. 

"Why are you so bad at this?" Tony said with a roll of his eyes, avoiding grabby hands by a fraction of an inch. Eventually he'd resort to beating his mate across the head with the wrapping paper, but for now he settled for wrapping with both hands, flat on his back, using both feet to push Bucky away. It was complicated, but it worked for him. Three presents in, Bucky had resigned himself to wrapping-defeat and gone to make more hot chocolate instead. Steve had moved closer to the tree. Steve sat cross-legged on the floor, with the child in his lap, (small pudgy hands unravelling the bow that had fallen off of his father earlier). Bucky came back from the kitchen, three mugs held carefully between both hands, and a certain sway to his hips once he noticed Tony watching. He grinned, face lighting up at the catch in Tony's breath, the way his omega's eyes stayed fixed on him as he came closer and closer. 

Steve was ignored. The mugs were put on the floor without care or thought. 

The Alpha crouched down over his mate, eyes hooded and mouth still grinning, and there was a rumble coming from his chest. This was his family, they had been his family for almost a year - his mate, their child, his best friend, their fucking Christmas tree (the third he'd had since leaving Hydra), their gifts inside of their home. The thought made him happy, but it also made him wild; he wanted to claim, to own, to prove to Steve that they were his (even Steve was his, dammit, even if the skinny runt had managed to grow into a pretty decent Alpha when his back was turned). 

Tony found himself pressed uncomfortably against a DIY child sized kitchen, the box crumpling at the corner under his weight. Bucky shuffled closer to him, arms around him and knees on either side of Tony's thighs - almost sitting on his lap. 

"Mine," he whispered, his voice gravelly with desire. 

"Not in front of innocent eyes." Tony tilted his head back invitingly nonetheless, bearing his throat as his lashes fluttered against his cheeks. 

"Conor doesn't understand what we're doing," Bucky whispered, as he mouthed along where neck met shoulder. Hands came up to press against his back, rubbing lightly, before they moved to his shoulders and pushed. 

"I was talking about Steve," Tony told him, eyebrow raised again as his gaze trailed over Bucky's form - sprawled out where he had been shoved. He'd missed the mugs, fortunately, and Tony was quick to snatch two up. The third was already in Steve's hand, half in front of his face to hide the blush that had formed earlier (and then the smirk that was quickly replacing it). Tony drank them both, licking his lips and making over-exaggerated noises of pleasure. "It's your turn to wrap again," he insisted, once both cups were empty and Bucky had peeled himself off of the floor. 

The scowl was back. Coupled with a nasty glare, which he shot at his omega before muttering, "You drank my cocoa. You don't love me." 

Despite his complaining, he dutifully picked up a roll of Hulk themed paper and the tape and shuffled forward on his knees again. Tony ducked out of the way, leaving the DIY kitchen at the mercy of his Alpha. 

"I saved you some," Tony promised. "I'll give it to you once you're done."

He spoke to Steve for a while, inane chatter that was practically background noise to Bucky's whining and cursing (and Steve's frequent chastisements over their language). Conor entertained himself, occasionally begged for kisses, and then made valiant attempts to unwrap the presents they'd actually managed to wrap. An hour passed, until finally there were only a handful of gifts left. Bucky officially quit - he even went as far as to advocate for the building of a present-wrapping-robot for next Christmas, much to Tony's smug amusement and Steve's disappointment. 

"Half the enjoyment is wrapping the gifts yourself. Here, let me help." The blond insisted. Bucky accepted Steve's help (and by help, Bucky assumed Steve meant he was going to do the last of the gifts himself). So, Bucky joined Tony on the sofa, and tugged Conor gently away from his omega so he could cuddle the boy himself. 

Pouting, the Alpha asked, "Where's my cocoa? Bad omega."

"Good omega," Tony countered. He lent forward, licked his lips, before softly pressing them to Bucky's. The Alpha parted his immediately, tongue flicking out to press against the seam of Tony's mouth, and he whined low in his throat until the omega opened up for him. They kissed lazily, slow flicks of tongue against tongue and soft pants of breath against open mouths, and Bucky could taste the chocolate and vodka on his mate with every kiss. 

It wasn't quite the same as having his own glass of Steve's mam's special cocoa, but it would do. "Good omega," Bucky agreed, as he pressed forward for another kiss. 

When Steve emerged from behind the tree twenty minutes later, Tony and Conor were asleep, stretched out across the couch with Bucky underneath them, metal arm holding them carefully in place. "Give me a hand?" He asked, wiggling the metal fingers on his left arm playfully. 

"He's going to regret drinking so much in the morning," Bucky mused quietly, after tucking Tony into bed. He joined Steve beside Conor's crib, taking a moment to watch his son's chest rise and fall as he slept. Metal fingers combed softly through his dark hair, flesh fingertips brushed across soft cheeks and his chin, before Bucky drew away. 

"Not as much as you're going to regret having a Christmas baby." Steve was grinning when Bucky looked over at him. He pulled the door closed, almost silently, behind them as they headed back to the living room to tidy up. "It's Christmas. That means you get to start wrapping Conor's birthday presents tonight. Friendly reminder, his party is at 11am on the 26th, so probably best to start early?"

"I will give you two grand and a box of doughnuts to wrap them for me? I'll get you coffee every morning for a month if you tell Tony I wrapped them. That goes for you too, Friday!" There was a grin on his face as he looked up at the corner of the room. 

"I am thrilled, Sir. Truly, ecstatic." The AI sounded almost interested in the deal Bucky was pitching. A little amused, sure, but Bucky thought she’d go for it considering her share of coffee could be used as a bribe against Tony that month too. He’d even let Friday take the credit for the coffee-bribery-plan. She was devious like that; she’d appreciate the blame. 

"Twelve past midnight," Steve butted in, sounding excited. He waved what was left of the bottle of vodka enticingly at the other Alpha, having snagged it on his way passed the kitchen, "happy Christmas, you punk. Happy Christmas, Friday."

"Happy Christmas, jerk!" 

There was a short pause, before Friday responded, "Young sir is awake." There would have been plenty of time for her to return their festive well wishes though, but she hadn’t. 

Bucky was going to assume that was her putting an end to his gift wrapping coffee bribery plans. He sighed, rolled his eyes at the camera lens, then huffed out, "Happy Christmas to you too, Grinch." 

He ended up bouncing Conor on his lap for another two hours, drinking warm milk instead of vodka, and watching TV. Friday had even managed to find _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_ on some kid’s channel, and as the Grinch’s heart grew two sizes larger, Bucky felt his swell with love and happiness too. He might not have been getting drunk with Stevie (who had fallen asleep before the Mayor could ruin everything), and there was zero chance of getting laid before they went to bed that night, but it was Bucky’s first Christmas with his son. He figured that made it his best Christmas yet. 

And, he was happy. 

**THE END**

 

I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT. Thank you for reading!  
Happy holidays and I hope everyone has a great 2017!! <3


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